


When Fond Hearts Fly

by Moonlitdarksword



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Pre-Canon, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlitdarksword/pseuds/Moonlitdarksword
Summary: Summer Rose's final mission was a personal undertaking, not a licensed mission or a favour for Ozpin. No one knew where she went, or why, or how a woman who seemed to have everything would want to throw it all away.Summer always believed that some decisions were more important than life itself, so when she recieved the worst possible news, Summer knew there was only one choice that could be made.This was Summer's attempt to ease the burden placed on her daughters, and the impact that choice would have in the years to come.
Relationships: Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	When Fond Hearts Fly

_“When true hearts lie wither’d, and fond ones are flown, oh, who would inhabit this bleak world alone?”_

- _The Last Rose of Summer,_ Thomas Moore

It was a cup of tea in the Headmaster’s office at Beacon that laid the first foundations for Summer Rose’s final decision.

‘So, you’re saying you don’t know what my Eyes would do to Salem,’ she noted, taking a sip of the rosebud tea Ozpin had so thoughtfully prepared. In the ten years since they had graduated, each member of Team STRQ as well as Ozpin’s colleagues knew about her obsession with the brew, and nothing helped her unwind from a nerve-wracking mission like that delicate floral aroma.

It was just her, Ozpin, and Qrow in the office, debriefing from a particularly dangerous mission over their choice of drink. Summer and the Headmaster sat at opposite sides of his massive clockwork desk, the wizening wizard nursing a mug of cocoa, his ancient favourite, while Qrow leaned against a marble column near the entrance, sipping from a flask that no doubt contained something that could double as paint thinner.

Ozpin had sent the two veteran Huntsmen to the north of Sanus, ostensibly to exterminate a colony of Ravagers but with the real aim of apprehending the Grimm Cult responsible for summoning them and to investigate their connection to Salem. The mission had too many close calls for Summer’s liking; the cult had trained ex-Huntsmen among their number, and the Grimm had an Alpha leading them, and judicious use of Summer’s Eyes had made the difference between life and death too many times. Fortunately the mission was a success, with the Grimm pack annihilated by her Light, all the cultists either dead or in custody, and Qrow had managed to find the cult leader’s Scroll on his body, which luckily showed a history of correspondence between him and one Hazel Rainart, a known member of Salem’s inner circle. When giving their report, Qrow made a quip of how Summer should blast the old hag with those Eyes of hers, which led to the conversation they were having at this moment.

‘Indeed, I can’t be certain,’ Ozpin agreed, staring thoughtfully into his mug. ‘She may be able to control the Grimm, and she has an affinity for the dark powers that made them, but Salem is not a creature of Grimm herself.’

‘So, what is she then?’ Qrow asked, rolling the flask in his hand and listening to the sloshing liquid. ‘Is she human? Or Faunus or whatever?’

Ozpin drew the cup to his lips, narrowing his eyes as he looked into the warm liquid. ‘Not anymore.’

‘Even so,’ Summer cut in, ‘none of this would mean anything if I never get anywhere near her in my lifetime.’

‘Don’t be so quick to dismiss the meaning of your work,’ Ozpin counselled, placing the mug on the desk. ‘As Huntsmen, we understand that every creature of Grimm vanquished is a life saved, and as members of this brotherhood, we also understand that every life saved is a victory Salem is denied.’

‘Speaking of victory, all you want us to do is keep the Relics out of her hands,’ Summer said, feeling a sudden curiosity. ‘That’s her win condition, right? So, what’s ours?’

‘Like you just said, Mrs. Rose,’ Ozpin said evenly, and Summer tensed at the change in address. The members of the brotherhood were all on first name terms, and Ozpin’s use of formal address was a means of bringing the discussion to a swift end. ‘We need only keep the Relics and the Maidens safe—’

‘But that doesn’t bring an end to the war,’ Summer countered. ‘We’ve been at this for thousands of years. Is there no way to get Salem out of the picture for good?’ She did not miss the way Ozpin’s shoulders tensed as Qrow cut in.

‘Hey, easy. Oz has a plan, and I bet he’s got a secret scheme lined up somewhere.’ He took a swig from his flask, not noticing Summer’s frown. ‘We just do our jobs and leave him to his, and Salem will be history before we know it, you’ll see.’

‘And how long will that be, Qrow?’ Summer asked tersely. ‘Ten years? Twenty? A hundred? We only need to fail once, and all Salem has to do is wait until we’re anything less than our strongest.’

‘She makes a mess, and we clean it up before it starts to smell,’ Qrow summarised with a shrug. ‘That’s how Oz always operated, and we just gotta have faith that everything will turn out okay. Never bothered you before.’

‘That was before I had a family,’ Summer snapped, tightening her grip on her teacup. ‘Whether I like it or not, my Eyes make me a target as much as any Maiden. I don’t want Ruby to grow up having to look over her shoulder.’

‘And she won’t,’ Qrow reassured her. In a moment he had put the flask back in his breast pocket and crossed the distance to put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Oz and the others can tell you that there are a lot less Eye Hunters around these days. I should know; I took out a few of them myself.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ Summer stated firmly. ‘I’ve also noticed they have a much fewer prey to hunt. I don’t know of anyone other than Ruby and myself who has silver eyes. Among our brotherhood, I’m already considered a high-value target by Salem’s minions, but if they were aware of Ruby’s existence…’ She let the implication hang in the air. She couldn’t bear to think about it, so she let them do it instead. Ozpin sighed, setting down his empty mug as he looked her in the eye.

‘Summer,’ he said quietly. ‘I have taken every possible precaution I could to safeguard your family. If anything should happen to you—’

‘Then it’ll all be on her,’ Summer whispered. Ozpin stopped in his tracks, realising where she was going. ‘She’ll be the last. The burden on her will be greater than any Silver-Eyed Warrior before her, and I fear one day she will have to fight an impossible battle.’

‘Summer…’ Qrow sighed. He never liked getting too attached to others, but he was practically a second father to those kids. The little rosebud had barely begun to talk in full sentences; the idea of her facing down Salem or the likes of Hazel Rainart was beyond the pale.

‘Oz,’ Summer’s voice was quiet. Her hands were clasped in the way Ozpin knew betrayed her anxiety, her shining eyes filled with a hope that hung by threads. ‘Please, give me something to go on. If my daughter has to fight my battles, then tell me she can win.’

It was like a prayer; a metaphor that aroused ugly memories in Ozpin’s mind. He remained silent. He would not, _could not,_ reveal Salem’s true nature here. The plaintive cries of countless souls shattered by the revelation rang in his ears as he saw Qrow’s confused concern and the expectant look in Summer’s eyes. He broke eye contact, his old soul burning with shame.

‘I see,’ Summer said bitterly. She took one last sip of her rosebud tea. ‘I guess it’s up to me.’ She set down her cup, sat up sharply, and with a swish of her cape, she turned to leave.

‘Hey, Summer, come on,’ Qrow interjected, weakly raising a hand to stop her, already knowing that it was futile to change her mind once it was set. She did stop at the threshold of the elevator, turning to face her old teammate.

‘Qrow, this is a war that will be fought by future generations,’ she reminded him. There was the familiar gentleness in her voice, but Qrow could also hear the steel in it that demanded your full attention. ‘We need to do everything we can to ensure that when it’s our children’s turn, they’ll have an easier go of it than we did. Anyone who claims they should suffer like we did is a fool. They have to be better than us. Goodbye, Professor.’

Having said her peace, Summer crossed the threshold and pressed the button for the ground floor. She saw the uncertain looks on Qrow and Ozpin’s faces as the doors closed, and on the way down, she could feel a migraine coming on.

* * *

The migraine persisted over the next few days.

The morning light that poured in through the kitchen windows stung her eyes, and the smell of her coffee made her stomach churn. She blinked blearily, and her woozy mood was alleviated with the sight of little Ruby attempting to shovel an entire pancake into her mouth with her hands.

‘No, Ruby!’ Summer’s other treasure chastised the toddler. Yang, in purple pyjamas decorated with cartoon canaries, scooted off her chair and stamped over to her little sister, tearing the enormous pancake out of her mouth and gently pushing the little plastic utensils into her hands. ‘You gotta take little bites!’ Ruby nodded slowly, swallowing the morsel in her mouth as she quietly set about gingerly cutting up her breakfast.

‘Thank you, Yang,’ Summer smiled gently at her, ‘I can always count on you to help your little sister.’

‘Yeah!’ the little blonde beamed, her smile wide enough to show the gaps in her teeth. ‘Can’t cut up monsters if you can’t cut pancakes.’

Summer’s smile faltered a little. ‘Cutting up…?’

Yang nodded enthusiastically, not noticing the concern beginning to show on her face. ‘Yup! Ruby wants to be a Huntress when she grows up! Ruby, tell Mommy what you told me!’

Ruby, wearing a red onesie with little white polka dots which made her look like a big toddling strawberry, locked her silver eyes onto her mother. She motioned to speak, but all that came out was muffled gibberish and blobs of half-eaten pancake.

‘Ruby,’ Summer groaned, grabbing a napkin and mopping up the goop on the toddler’s chin. ‘Swallow before you speak.’ The gentle chastisement made Summer’s headache a little worse, but Ruby was unfazed as she finally swallowed.

‘Wanna be a hero someday,’ she declared, speaking slowly as if every word she knew was unfamiliar. ‘Like books. Like Mama. Help people, and, uh…stop bad guys!’

‘See?’ Yang agreed, giving her little sister a thumbs up before looking expectantly at her mother. ‘That’s all the stuff Huntsmen do! What you do, right?’

‘Well, yes. But…’ She broke eye contact, wondering what to say to that. She was reticent about the idea of Yang and Ruby living the kind of life she led, but she admitted she had to be realistic. They were the daughters of Huntsmen, practically born with unlocked Auras, so how were they going to turn out any other way? Yet after so long of hearing Yang speak the whole world of her parents and of Qrow, Summer knew it would be a path she would walk of her own volition, not a path Ozpin roped her onto. Though Ruby rarely spoke much yet, her admiration for her mother and sister couldn’t have been clearer. Perhaps it was fate that a child born with silver eyes would grow to put themselves in harm’s way.

‘But,’ Taiyang’s voice cut in as he stepped behind Summer to refill her mug from the coffee filter, ‘she can tell you all about it when she comes back from her mission. Isn’t that right, Rosy?’

Summer chuckled as she craned her neck up to steal a quick kiss from Tai. Yang covered her eyes and made a squawk of disgust, while Ruby blinked obliviously, and then hesitantly put her hands over her eyes like her sister did.

‘But Mommy,’ Yang protested, ‘you just got home!’

‘It’s only a little mission,’ Summer explained, and it was true enough. It was mainly a pack of Beowolves harassing farmers in Vale’s agricultural district, a cull more than anything else. ‘I need to relax a little after the big mission I went on with your Uncle Qrow.’

The two little girls gasped in awe as Tai snorted in amusement. ‘Only you would try to unwind by killing a few Beowolves.’ Summer rolled her eyes as she took another swig of coffee.

‘I should be home by sunset,’ she told them as she stood up and left the table. Stepping about brightly, she took her hooded cape off the coat rack and secured Gibbous Thorn, her twin machete-pistols, to the small of her back. She was feeling a bit spritelier as she hopped back to the table and finished her coffee, giving a quick goodbye kiss to Ruby’s forehead as she passed.

‘Oh, and when I get home, I’ll make some cookies for everybody,’ she proposed, with a wink in Tai’s direction. ‘What does everybody think about that?

The children cheered in excitement and Taiyang evidently picked up on her hidden signal, smiling wolfishly as she strolled out the door. As she stepped out into the sun, she noticed her head was completely clear. Maybe the caffeine was what she needed, or maybe she had a little too much wine last night. She was in her thirties now, so she couldn’t bounce back as easily as she used to. After this one little mission, she would take it easier over the next few days, see how it went.

As she walked down the path to the port of Patch, she had the creeping feeling that the sun was a little too bright.

* * *

The last Beowolf was ashes only two hours later.

The beasts had stalked their way through endless golden fields of barley and wheat, snarling at the local farmers in numbers too great to for them to grab their shotguns for. It was work for less experienced Huntsmen, the kind of battle you fought when you freshly graduated from Beacon and got your full license. Many veterans disdained this kind of grunt work, yet Summer took the job anyway. It wasn’t like she needed the money; Tai’s tenure as a combat instructor at Signal brought in a stable wage, and Ozpin paid _very_ generously for the secret missions he would send his inner circle on. Summer signed on because it was a battle that needed to be fought by _someone,_ and in any case, she needed to keep herself sharp for the next time Ozpin called on her.

The fight was as simple as she had anticipated. These were young Beowolves, lithe and strong yet direct and easily provoked. Compared to the Alpha Ravagers and the well-trained Grimm Cultists she had just pitted herself against, their bites and swipes were noticeably telegraphed and painfully slow. An aggressive lunge here allowed her to duck under the claws and stick a blade between its ribs, a pouncing bite there let her vault over the leaping Grimm and put a shot in its eye. When they surrounded her in an attempt to bring her down through weight of numbers, she used her Semblance to vanish in a flurry of white petals, reappearing in the air above and letting loose a rain of bullets. After annihilating that initial pack, most of those hours were spent helping other Huntsmen track down the stragglers. She hadn’t had to use her Eyes once, and had made it a point not to. It would not do for a warrior to become dependent on one weapon.

After it was done, her body and mind felt…light. There was the usual fatigue that followed a battle, with her sore muscles, ragged breath, and racing heart, but there was something else there. The sun felt a little too bright, and her steps felt a little too light, as if she were walking an inch off the ground. She shelved these thoughts as she approached the head farmer.

‘I wish I could thank you enough, good Huntress,’ he said with a bow. Summer returned as his smile politely, but her smile faltered as her sight grew misty, despite her eyes being dry. As he handed out his Lien, he raised a worried eyebrow. ‘Are you alright? You look pale.’

‘I’m…’ Summer wanted to say she was fine, but suddenly her tongue felt numb, like it was replaced by a fat frozen slug. From her point of view, the farmers face separated into duplicates made of coloured dots. The smell of roses filled her nostrils, and static fuzz filled her legs. She didn’t hear the farmer cry out for help, only a rush of wind as her consciousness collapsed in on itself. Then the only colour was black.

* * *

Summer woke up in the back of an ambulance. She was groggy but perfectly lucid. The paramedic helped fill the gaps in her memory, explaining how she had collapsed in that farm. They performed basic exams and asked her simple questions, prodding her limbs and torso for broken bones, asking how she was feeling now, what she remembered before she collapsed, what unusual things she had felt, whether she had any history of seizures in her family. She answered as best she could, but found that the harder she concentrated, the tougher it became to recollect, like a dark cloud has passed over those memories. The paramedic was already on their Scroll, booking in a high-priority appointment with a neurologist. Summer shrugged in awkward agreement at that. One of the perks to being a Huntress of her renown was priority access to the best medical care in the Kingdom. Some people grumbled at the way the administration was formed in favour of this, or that their taxes funded it, but at the end of the day, no one wanted the first and last line of defence against the Grimm getting sick.

They arrived at the hospital, and the next hour was a blur of moving from one room to the other. One moment, she was sitting in a chair answering basic medical questions, and the next she was entombed in a great CT scanner. She complied with the instructions of the doctors, being as patient as she could even though she thought it wasn’t worth the hassle. She was exhausted from a previous mission, she explained to them, she had a fair amount to drink the night before, it was just the heat, but the doctors were nothing if not thorough. Waiting in the lounge, she prepared her latest batch of hasty explanations, looking to excuse herself at the first moment she could and get home to her baking and her rosebud tea. As soon as she heard a door open, she rose to her feet to list her pre-planned excuses, and her protests froze into a lump in her throat when she saw the grave expression on the neurologist’s face.

The old man, with gold spectacles, dark skin, and ram horns curling from his brow, led her into his office, which was as cold and sterile as any room in the hospital. She was not listening to him. Even as she slumped into the chair the doctor indicated, Summer’s attention was solely on the images on the whiteboard above the austere desk. She could only assume they were the results of her CT scan. She zeroed in on what must have been a cross-section of her skull, taking in the white halo of bone, the grey meat within.

And the black mass in its centre.

She felt her blood running cold, her skin growing clammy, and her heart dropping into the same void that consumed her stomach. The doctor’s voice was a drone, a tired litany of terminology, explanations and apologies. Of the medical jargon he babbled, only three words made any sense in her ears.

Inoperable. Incurable. Terminal.

_This_ , Summer thought, _was not in the cards._ Her initial feelings were about how strange this news was. As a Huntress, brushes with death were an occurrence that came with every other mission, and during quiet moments, she sometimes wondered how she would finally bow out of life’s great stage. In those considerations, she sometimes saw herself being ripped apart by Grimm too great in strength and numbers for even her Eyes to drive back. Maybe she would be challenged personally by one of Salem’s followers, a man or woman who would best her and bring her low. Perhaps even a lowly bandit or common Beowolf getting a lucky shot while her Aura was breached. Sometimes she would dare to dream of defying the odds and fading away in bed when she was withered and grey, her hands held by her girls, who had white hairs and crow’s feet themselves. But this? Something so... _ordinary_ was like a punch from a fist of ice. Summer Rose, Huntress Extraordinaire, heir to an ancient dynasty of magic from a lost era, killed by cell division gone awry. The concept was so absurd, it made her giggle slightly under her breath.

‘Please, take your time, Mrs. Rose,’ the doctor said quietly, evidently having heard her. ‘There is no right or wrong way to respond to news like this.’

Any further laughter quickly subsided when she thought of her family. Gods, what was she going to tell Tai? How would either of them explain this to the girls? She would never get to see them grow up, would never witness them become the Huntresses they were so excited to grow up into. Oh no, what about Ruby? Ozpin was going to poach her for whatever battle plans of his needed a bearer of silver eyes, and even if she didn’t involve herself with the brotherhood, that wouldn’t matter to Salem. A hundred questions rattled inside her skull, but with a throat tight with unshed tears, she could only voice one.

‘How…?’ she croaked, swallowing heavily to choke back the dozen other questions that began that way. ‘How long do I have?’

‘That, of course, depends on the course of treatment you would like to pursue,’ the doctor said, looking down with a heavy sigh. ‘But I would estimate somewhere between nine and fifteen months.’

A year, give or take, Summer surmised. Less than a year until Ruby became the last Silver Eyed Warrior. Was the burden of watching her mother waste away and die not cruel enough for destiny to thrust upon her? She sniffed heavily, allowing a few stray tears to escape.

‘Thank you for informing me of this,’ she said, her voice as cold and hard as ice in Solitas. And just like that, her final decision was made. She would make sure her children never had to suffer her burdens.

* * *

After a brief discussion with the doctor following treatment options and medication courses, Summer pocketed the prescription she was given as she left the building. As soon as the main entrance doors slid open and she stepped into the sun, she saw suddenly saw the familiar yellow blur of her husband as he dashed towards her, suddenly enveloping her in a crushing hug.

‘Summer!’ he gasped. He released the embrace to gaze into his wife’s wide eyes, panting from exertion. ‘Got here as soon as I could.’

‘Got here…’ She wondered what he meant, making sure a face of bemused curiosity showed as she buried the mounting anxiety within. Making a face that hid how she truly felt was an old, bad habit that she spent many years breaking, and now she was smiling to hide her misery once again.

‘I got a call from the hospital,’ Tai explained breathlessly. ‘They said you collapsed! What happened out there? Are you okay?’

‘Doc said it was fine, just exhaustion,’ she answered, suppressing the pang of shame that came from lying so easily to him. ‘Low Aura and fatigue, combined with the heat and long couple of days…’

Tai exhaled slightly, like he was releasing a held breath. He fixed her with a stern look. ‘You _really_ need to take a break.’

‘I guess I do,’ Summer nodded. She stepped past Tai, leading the way home. She had to waylay his concern before she could put her plan into action.

‘I’m serious,’ he called as he followed. ‘Killing Beowolves is not R and R. Laze around the house a little, spend some quality time with the girls. Maybe come evening, we could break out the good stuff and try to beat Qrow’s record.’

‘Tai, you know neither of our livers are up for that challenge,’ she laughed, stopping to face him properly. She knew she should tell him the truth, but then what would happen? He would go frantic, chasing up every experimental drug regime and every esoteric Aura therapy, calling in every favour he was owed from every Kingdom if he thought it would keep her here for one more day. And he would never let her out of his sight, insist she stayed in bed, steal every moment he could with her for fear it might be their last together. And what good would that do? Far better to use the last of your strength to do something worthwhile, something the girls would talk about for the rest of their lives.

She crossed the short distance back to him getting in his space. She looked into his eyes as she laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the power of his heartbeat and the heat of his skin. ‘Don’t worry about me, Tai,’ she whispered with a sly smile, ‘I intend to make the most of my sabbatical.’

Tai smiled in return as he leaned in. The kiss was fierce yet controlled, a promise of more to come. By the time they broke it off, Summer had already wiped away the tear that leaked out.

* * *

Ruby thought it was weird. It was like Mama wasn’t Mama anymore.

For the last couple of days, Mama was still Mama in the all the important ways. She was still so warm and cuddly, nice and gentle, funny and smart. She could still bake an incredible batch of cookies, and yesterday she made a batch that had peanut butter and jelly in the middle that tasted like a salty-sweet explosion in her mouth. She would still listen eagerly to Yang talking about how she couldn’t wait until she was big enough to start training with Daddy, and then lean towards her daughter’s ear and whisper slyly about teaching her how to throw a punch that would _really_ hurt, causing Yang to giggle in that way only Mama could do. One day, she had sent her and Yang out to play with Uncle Qrow all day. After hearing all his cool stories about all the monsters he beat up, the girls came home to find Mama and Daddy looking real tired with their hair all mussed up. Qrow laughed and said something about “intense training”, but Ruby didn’t know what was so funny about training.

But sometimes, Mama would act real quiet in a way that wasn’t like Mama. Sometimes she would stare off into space, and Ruby would have to call out to her twice or maybe even three times before she would answer. Sometimes Ruby would walk into a room and see Mama crying, but Ruby knew she could make her feel better; all she had to do was get her attention and Mama would dry her tears and asked what she wanted with a smile, as if nothing was wrong at all. One time, while Daddy was taking Yang to school, Ruby had found Mama lying on the floor in the living room, her arms flopping around like fish on hooks. She only saw it for a few seconds, but Mama was quickly back on her feet, and she quickly gripped Ruby by her tiny shoulders and made her promise not to tell Daddy what she just saw. Ruby promised because she was scared, because Mama was scared too, and Ruby had never seen her like that. They spent ages after that cuddling until Daddy came home.

This evening, the house was silent. Ruby had woken up from her nap and wondered into the hall to ask Daddy for food, and there was him and Mama by the door, whispering in quiet voices. So, she didn’t step out, hiding behind the corner and listening carefully.

‘I might not be home for some time,’ Mama told him. From Ruby’s hidey-hole, it was obvious she was going away again, with her hood up and her weapons at her belt. She was looking up at Daddy with a look that seemed…kind of sad.

‘It’s another big one,’ he nodded, looking back and forth like he wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. ‘You haven’t even been home for that long. I guess Oz must really need you on this one.’

Mama was quiet for a moment before she answered, ‘Yes, I guess he does. You’ll look after the girls while I’m gone?’

‘Do you even have to ask?’ he scoffed, but he saw the way Mama was looking at him. It was the same kind of look she gave Ruby when she was telling her not to play with matches and not to cross the street without holding her hand.

‘Taiyang, you’ll protect them, won’t you?’ she asked firmly. He was taken off-guard by the sudden seriousness of her question, but he answered just as sternly.

‘With my life.’

‘Thank you, Tai,’ she sighed, looking and standing on tiptoes to reach him. ‘I love you.’

Ruby hid her eyes like she always saw Yang do, but didn’t add the customary “Bleh!” so she wouldn’t be caught. They heard them break off, and opened her eyes to see Mama leaving.

‘Give the girls my regards,’ she said, and Ruby heard that weird note in her voice again. She sounded sad, so Ruby decided to make her feel better. That’s what she always did for her, after all!

She waited in that hidey-hole until Mama was walking down the path, and then until Daddy went further back down the hall, and as soon as the house was quiet again and there were no adults in her way, she took off, running as fast as her little legs could go.

The sky was on the edge of sunset, and the pink sky was bordered by threatening dark clouds, but Ruby ran on down the path towards the woods, heedless of the chill of the late afternoon. Running was still an exhausting thing for little Ruby, and she could never keep up with Yang while they were playing. She toddled as hard as she could, keeping her hands raised in front of her in case she tripped. Her little footfalls kicked up puffs of dust on the beaten path, and though the tall oaks that thickly bordered the path and cast her in shadow looked imposing, Ruby had faith she would be safe. She had faith that Mama would be at the end of the path, waiting for her so that she would always keep her safe.

Ruby reached the clearing, and tripped as she emerged into the sunlight. The path led to a cliff, and from here you could see a vast ocean of trees, all cast in the fiery glow of the dusk. And Mama was there, as Ruby knew she would be as she stood up and patted the dust off her dress. She turned around, lowering the white hood as she smiled in that gentle way.

‘Hello there, Ruby,’ she said, one eye still on the horizon. ‘What are you doing all the way out here?’

‘Wanna…help Mama,’ said Ruby. Words were still hard for her, but this was important, so she had to try. ‘You’re sad. You wanna hug?’

Mama went pale for just a moment, and then she was smiling again. ‘Nothing gets past you, does it? You are my clever little rosebud, after all.’

Ruby giggled at Mama’s compliment, but she was not to be deterred as she stepped forward, arms spread for a great big hug. As she got closer, she saw the way Mam’s smile faded away.

‘Ruby, it’s not the kind of sadness that goes away with a hug.’ The toddler stopped in her tracks, tilting her head. Sadness that hugs didn’t fix? Impossible! So, she kept approaching, determined to hug Mama even more.

‘Oh, my poor baby,’ Mama sighed, her face dropping into an even deeper frown. ‘I wish I had the words to explain what I’m doing and how I’m feeling. I wish I could make you understand. So, I’ll just give you a little advice.

‘Ruby, Remnant isn’t the best place it can be right now,’ she went on, keeping her eyes locked onto to Ruby’s as she toddled closer. ‘The environment can be inhospitable, and the people can be cruel, and unlike all the storybooks, the good guys don’t always win; in fact, it’s very rare that they do.

‘But they still do, sometimes. They _can!_ It’s easy to become cynical, to say that opening your heart can only lead to pain, but there are some things in this world that are worth the pain. You’re one of them, and this is why this will be the hardest thing I ever do.’

‘Mama?’ Ruby blinked, tilting her head. This wasn’t making any sense to her, but she was close now, her fingers nearly touching the edges of her cloak.

‘Ruby,’ Mama knelt down, her eyes level with her own, and Ruby could see the tears in them. ‘If you had a chance to make the world a better place, would you take it? Even if the whole world told you it was hopeless, would you still be willing to take a risk to give back some of that hope?’

Ruby stopped, considering this. Trying to make things better, pressing on when it would have been so easy to give up…that’s what heroes did. Mama, Daddy, Uncle Qrow…they were heroes! And Ruby was going to be one too when she grew up. So, Ruby sucked in a breath, tried her best to mimic the look on Yang’s face when she had a staring contest with Uncle Qrow, and gave the grimmest nod she could muster. A little smile tugged at the corner of Mama’s lip.

‘I see,’ she whispered. ‘I suppose it was pretty silly of me to ask.’ And then Ruby closed in, nuzzling her face in Mama’s chest and wrapping her arms around her ribs. Ruby didn’t need to think about the words any more. She just closed her eyes, listening to Mama’s heartbeat and feeling her hand leafing through her hair.

‘Ruby,’ she whispered gently, like she always did when she was tucking her into bed. ‘You’re my hero too. Be good for your father. I love you.

‘Goodbye.’

A rush of wind, and Ruby gasped as she pitched forward and fell onto her belly. She clambered up and dusted herself off, and she quickly noticed that Mama was gone.

‘Mama? Mama?’ she called out, but only the wind answered with a lonely whistle. She saw nobody and nothing, only a flurry of white petals where Mama had been, the setting sun and the vastness of the forest below. Tears brimmed in Ruby’s eyes. She had tripped and was all dirty, and now Mama was gone! The first sob came as the realisation hit her: _Mama was gone!_

Her next utterance was a long, plaintive wail that Summer heard distantly as she pressed through the forest, not bothering to hide her cascading tears or her hiccupping sobs. The last tie was cut, and nothing could hold her back on her last mission. Years later, Ruby would not remember the exact words they had exchanged, but she would always remember the promise in the way it affected her worldview, and she could always recall the image of her mother standing on the cliff’s edge against the twilight.

* * *

There was one more person Summer needed to bid farewell to, and it was only because she needed something in return from her as well.

Her farewells were subtle things; they had to be in order to make sure no one could stop her. Better for them to realise she had saved the world long after she had given her life to do it. So, she decided she would leave a final great impression on each of the people closest to her. During her week of preparations, she met Qrow in a pub in downtown vale where they had dinner and drank until late that night, laughing over old stories or successful missions and schooltime pranks gone awry (after all these years, Summer maintained that Qrow looked amazing in a skirt.) She made her unsaid goodbyes to Tai in the way she always showed her love to her husband: lending a compassionate ear to his problems (and carefully deflecting when he asked if there was anything on her mind), softly singing and slowly dancing to their favourite songs, and having a frankly unreasonable amount of sex. She taught Yang all her best jokes, and showed her the little tricks that would truly elevate a batch of cookies. Ruby… that last farewell had to be done the way it did. If she hadn’t blinked away with her Semblance, she would have stayed, and maybe would have accepted a dwindling death. That was not the plan, and she could only pray that if she failed, Ruby would grow up to be fine Huntress, better than she ever was.

Her pockets and satchel were filled with the supplies she would need for her journey: a double stash of trail mix and jerky, a packet of rosebud tealeaves, a full canteen of water, as much Dust and ammunition she could carry, and a few bottles of surreptitiously acquired pills which kept the worst of the seizures at bay. She travelled light nonetheless, for she did not expect to return.

The whereabouts of the individual she wished to speak with where not difficult to trace. After making landfall on Anima, she liaised with local law enforcers about recent bandit attacks, tracked the patterns of sacked villages, remembered what Qrow had told her once he was deep enough in his cups.

Only three days later, when she was strolling down a lonely forest path, she noticed the raven perched on a branch off to her left.

‘You know,’ she called out, projecting her voice towards the thicket of trees, ‘you were never half as subtle as you think you are.’

The raven cawed, feathers rustling with the leaves as it took wing. Summer blinked, and from where a bird once ascended, a woman fell from the treeline and landed gracefully in front of her.

‘I’ve been following you for the last six hours,’ Raven said, raising an arch eyebrow and putting a hand on her hip, close to the hilt of her sword. ‘You only saw me because I wanted you to see me.’

‘Please, Raven,’ Summer rolled her eyes, ‘it’s hard not to notice a bird that takes such an interest in one human. It just took six hours for me to get sick of waiting for you to come out.’

Raven only smirked in that way that never ceased to irritate her. ‘I believe you,’ she spoke in a tone that suggested the opposite sentiment. The smirk disappeared as her red eyes met Summer’s. ‘Now, about your little investigation. Is your business with me, or the Tribe?’

‘I think you know the answer to that,’ Summer answered coolly, keeping her expression neutral. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Oh, now this is new,’ Raven chuckled. ‘Usually, it’s Qrow who tries to grill me for information. But I warn you now, if you’re going to show me a few little crayon drawings Yang drew, you can go home right now.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Summer’s reply was clipped and tight. She felt a hot, ugly coil in her chest, but she let it go quickly. This woman was _not_ Yang’s mother. Raven stepped causally over to the tree behind her, slowly lowering herself so that she was sitting on the damp grass, patting the spot next to her. Summer sighed, taking a seat by the tree next to her as Raven reached in to a satchel at the small of her back.

‘Well, we don’t need to be _all_ business,’ Raven said, producing a bottle of sake and two small saucers. Summer shrugged, accepting her saucer and watching Raven as she poured themselves some measures, noticing the tension in her muscles. As casual as Raven could act, Summer knew very well that she never let down her guard.

A moment of quiet fell, and Summer peeled her eyes away from Raven as she took in the savoury tang of the sake. The grass beneath them was lush and cool, beaded with dew from last night’s rain. Sunlight filtered in thin shafts through leaves that were reddening with autumn’s onset. The gulf of silence between them was filled with the distant melody of birdsong and the last cries of the cicadas before their hibernation. It had been too long since she had just sat down with Raven, not since she had been carrying Yang. The moments between them were not ones filled with passion or even many words; just silence, each taking in the world around them, simply having faith that the other one was still there.

‘So,’ Raven sighed, smacking her lips on the aftertaste of the liquor, ‘what do you want me for?’

‘Just like you surmised,’ Summer said, still not looking directly at her. ‘Information. Neither you nor the Tribe needs to get involved.’

Summer heard Raven hiss from the corner of her mouth. ‘I’m not one of the old man’s spies, Sum. Anything you ask of me—’

‘Ozpin isn’t involved, either,’ Summer cut her off. For the first time since sitting down, they looked one another in the eye, and Raven’s were wide.

‘Really?’ a smile crept on Raven’s face as she poured a second measure. ‘Now this is interesting! Valedictorian teacher’s pet Summer Rose keeping a secret from Old Man Oz!’ She laughed as she raised the saucer to her lips. ‘Tell me, what’s so important that you need to keep the old man out of the loop?’

Summer smiled gently, remembering all the times in Beacon she had teased her like this. ‘Oh, nothing much,’ she shrugged, closing her eyes. ‘I’m just going to the Fifth Continent.’

Summer heard a sharp spray of liquid and a fit of coughs next to her. When she looked at Raven next, she wiping the spittle from her lip, glaring with eyes that had lost all humour.

‘You…’ she hissed. ‘You’ve lost your gods-damned mind! There’s nothing over there but death! What could you possibly hope to accomplish there?’ Raven’s rancour faded as the realisation dawned on her. ‘Oh, don’t tell me…’

Summer nodded, deciding to let Raven in on her plan. ‘That’s right. I’m going to kill Salem.’

Most educated people knew of the Fifth Continent. Aside from the four continents on which the Kingdoms sat and the island of Menagerie, there was another landmass whose outline could be seen by telescopes for centuries, and mapped out more recently by high-altitude drone imagery. But as for what lay within, no one knew. Any ship that tried to journey there by sea or air would by torn apart by unpredictable weather or by vast swarms of Grimm. Only members of the brotherhood knew that the Fifth Continent was the domain of Salem herself, and only the members of her inner circle knew the secret paths that let them enter and leave safely.

Summer watched Raven as she stared back with wide eyes, silently working her jaw as she tried to come up with a response. Then her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed in a bloodless line as she fixed Summer with a venomous glare.

‘What you’re trying to do cannot be done,’ she said coldly, her voice even and low. ‘If you confront her directly, she will kill you. That is a fact.’

‘It’s a possibility,’ Summer countered firmly. ‘A very likely one, yes, but there is a chance that I could beat her, and if there’s even the slightest chance I’ll—’

‘This isn’t Beacon!’ Raven thundered. She threw down the saucer and drew herself up to look scornfully down on her. ‘This isn’t some test you can barrel your way through with a plucky enough attitude. Salem’s not a person; she is a phenomenon, one that can’t be stopped and won’t stop. Why are you even considering this?’

‘Because I refuse to see the world in absolutes,’ said Summer, rising up so that she was eye-level with Raven again. ‘Like I said, if there’s even a tiny chance she can be beaten, I’m willing to take that risk.’

‘And how many people have already taken that chance?’ Raven asked. ‘You think Salem hasn’t had to deal with overconfident idiots with special eyes invading the Fifth Continent before? What makes you think you’ll be any different?’

‘I already explained my reasoning to you,’ Summer hissed. Raven was the only person in all of Remnant who could make her lose patience like this, even after all these years. ‘I refuse to go in circles like this.’

‘Like hell you have!’ Raven snapped. As her tone grew more sever, her face twisted into a sneer, one Summer knew meant that she believed she was about to win. ‘Between your little favours for Oz, you’ve been playing Happy Families on Patch for years now. Why throw that away? Are you going to leave Yang motherless for a second time?’

‘And suddenly you care about Yang?!’ Summer shouted. That unpleasantly warm feeling in her gullet suddenly exploded, racing through her veins and trembling through her fingers. ‘You always did have a manipulative streak, but that was just shameless!’

‘If that’s what it takes to snap you out of it,’ Raven hissed. ‘You want information from me? Then I think you should draw your weapon, press it to your temple, and pull the trigger, because if you go to the Fifth Continent, you will be accomplishing the exact same thing!’

‘Better that than wasting my life out here!’ Summer continued to rant, too offended at the gall Raven had to bring Yang into this to think about her last insult. ‘You think you’re stronger for turning your back on this? Your sword arm’s only gotten noodly from using on people who can’t fight back.’

‘You’re one to talk about strength,’ Raven responded as she crossed her arms. ‘I am the strength of Branwen; my people depend on me to provide for them and lead them to victory. I shouldn’t expect someone who lives in the comfort of the Kingdoms to understand the necessities required to—’

‘Oh, you’re really going to play that card, are you?’ Summer was almost laughing from the sheer audacity she had. ‘You already know my upbringing has been _far_ from comfortable, and you clearly don’t know what I’m prepared to do to stop Ruby from…from…’

She was too caught up in her rage to notice the symptoms at first, thinking her shaking limbs and the heat in her skin came just from her anger. It was only when her tongue began to gum up and her nose was filled with the scent of roses that she knew what was happening, and she was completely unprepared as her legs gave way and her self-awareness faded out, letting her eyes and ears take in sensations without the ability to make sense of any of them. By the time her thoughts returned like an undammed river, the first thing she saw was Raven’s face above her, staring gown at her in horror as she cradled her.

‘I’m…okay,’ she panted, ‘I’m sorry you had to—’ Her voice was overridden by a sudden and grotesque cough tearing its way up her throat. When the fit subsided, she could taste blood in her mouth and felt a dull ache deep beneath her breast.

‘So, it’s in my lungs now,’ she noted to herself. ‘Neat.’ Suddenly, she remembered that she was not alone. She quickly looked back at Raven, her mind racing to piece together an explanation, but one look at her ashen face told her that wasn’t necessary. Raven knelt there wide-eyed, her fingers twitching as her lips trembled. Before Summer could offer any apology or consolation, Raven let out a bestial howl as she suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the nearby tree. Summer’s gasp of shock was cut short by the sound of ringing metal and a sharpness brushing against her neck.

‘This…is this your grandmaster plan?!’ Raven growled. She pinned Summer down with one hand and held Omen to her throat with the other. Her shoulders were trembling and her eyes were shining, and not just from unshed tears. Her narrowed, blinking eyes raged with crimson Maiden’s fire. ‘You’re going to die anyway, so you might as well go out with a bang, is that it?’

‘That’s the long and short of it, yes,’ Summer admitted. She gingerly raised a hand and laid it gently on the one pinning her down. ‘Raven, death never frightened me. After everything we’ve been through, the only thing that scares me anymore is the idea of my children facing a threat I can’t protect them from.’

‘So you decided you’re going to remove that threat from the source?’ Raven asked. The air with thick with the weighty rush of magic, but Summer could feel her grip loosen just a little. ‘And whether you succeed or fail, they’ll remember you as a hero, not some ghoul in a hospital bed.’

Summer nodded slowly, giving a soft chuckle. ‘You know, I will never not be annoyed by how you’re able to tell exactly what I’m thinking, and then phrase my thoughts in the most unflattering way possible.’

‘Well,’ Raven sighed, closing her eyes and extinguishing the crimson flames, the supernatural pressure in the air releasing. ‘That’s an easy thing to do when you’re an earnest idiot.’ A dry chuckle bubbled from her throat, and finally, let go. ‘Gods, how did we share a room for four years without killing each other?’

‘Somebody had to stop Tai and Qrow from getting themselves killed,’ Summer laughed. As soon as the sound rang out, they were both cackling. Even after so many years neither of them knew how it happened; they would argue, one of them would make some kind of smart comment, and the issue was forgotten in the gale of laughter. Soon the laughs gave way to whooping sighs, and the forest was silent again. The cicadas sang another verse, and Summer fixed Raven with a firm stare.

‘I’m not going to ask how you became a Maiden,’ she said, ‘but I still want any information on the Fifth Continent you have.’

‘You’re still set on this,’ Raven said. She broke eye contact, speaking as if making a note. ‘You’ve given this some serious thought, haven’t you?’ She looked back to Summer. ‘Why come to me for this? Wouldn’t Oz know more?’

‘Well, you know how the Professor is,’ Summer shrugged. ‘I came to you because I know you like to keep an eye out on things, and there was a chance that you found something that Qrow didn’t, something you wouldn’t report to Oz.’ She looked down at her feet, folding her arms as she smiled in melancholy. ‘That, and I knew you wouldn’t try to stop me.’

‘You’re the one who’s so set on this,’ Raven rolled her eyes. ‘I couldn’t stop you even if I cared.’

‘You’re a Maiden, apparently,’ Summer countered, ignoring how much that last barb stung. ‘You could make a decent try of it.’

Raven narrowed her eyes at that, and Summer could see her tighten her grip on her blade. After a moment, Raven closed her eyes as she reached into her pocket, then tossed a small object towards Summer. It was only when she caught it when she realised that it was a folded Scroll.

‘You’re right, there was something I haven’t told Qrow,’ she began, staring solemnly at her former partner. ‘Salem tried to recruit me; enemy of my enemy, or so she thought.’

‘Raven,’ Summer cut, her voice carrying the tone of a reprimand, ‘Ozpin isn’t your enemy.’

‘That’s beside the point,’ Raven hissed. They were _not_ going to have this conversation today. ‘Anyhow, one her cronies contacted my tribe with an offer I had to refuse. This was his Scroll.’

‘I see,’ Summer nodded, giving Raven a suspicious look. ‘And where is its owner now?’

Raven grinned savagely. ‘At the bottom of Lake Matsu. That Scroll contains some kind of navigation program. It might be a long shot, but it could be one of those “secret ways” Oz mentioned.’

Summer stared intently at the device, her lips creasing at the corners. ‘Why are you giving me this?’

‘Well, I’m certainly not going to use it,’ she chuckled. Summer shot her a scolding glance, and Raven sighed. ‘Look, if I didn’t straight up give you a solid lead, you’d just twist my arm until it snapped off.’

‘You think I would do that?’ Summer asked, a cheeky smirk appearing on her face.

‘Absolutely,’ Raven deadpanned. ‘Remember how I didn’t want to attend the Vytal Festival dance. You just pretended I did agree, and then you sat me down to read fashion catalogues for hours. It was around ninety minutes in that I realised it would be over a lot sooner if I just cooperated.’

‘Well, you certainly didn’t make it easy on me either,’ Summer laughed, smiling earnestly as she remembered the sour grimace that was stuck on Raven’s face. ‘I remember the way you constantly insulted me until we found a design we both liked, but it was worth it in the end when we saw the look on Tai’s face.’

Summer’s giggle was cut short as she noticed Raven’s silence, and her reverie faded as she saw the pinched look on her face. ‘You always do that,’ Raven glowered. ‘You’ve always put yourself through a hard time if you thought it would make someone else happy. You’re doing it right now with this whole “killing Salem” nonsense.’ She inhaled sharply, swallowing a heavy lump. ‘I don’t understand it. I hate it.’

‘You don’t have to accept it,’ Summer counselled. She broke eye contact with Raven, and cast her gaze east. ‘I just need you to trust me.’ She took one step, determined to go to her final destination, but she was stopped by a hand suddenly clasping her on the shoulder.

‘Summer,’ Raven whispered, her voice a choked rasp, ‘you want my advice? Go home.’ Summer turned around, and took a short breath in when she saw the wetness in Raven’s eyes. ‘Go back to Patch. Go to that little house of your and play those stupid little games with your girls all day. Make out with Tai until he can’t see straight. Try in vain to keep up with Qrow at a bar. Create as many good memories for them as you can, while you still can.’ Raven blinked, and the tears spilled. ‘Because I know you well enough to know you’d rather do all that than face Salem. Don’t do it because I told you to. Do something for yourself for once in your life!’

Summer smiled softly, tears glistening in her own eyes as she listened to Raven’s plea. Of course Summer wanted to do what Raven advised. She wanted to go back home and tell Tai everything, to spend her last months losing herself in the innocent laughter of her daughters, and to bow out with her hand clasped in Tai’s. Yet more than that, she wanted to keep the girls away from the eternal conflict by bringing to a decisive end, to ensure Salem could never harm anyone again. Summer pitied Raven, in a way. She never could understand that it was possible to serve yourself through serving others, that you could enrich your life through altruistic sacrifice, or perhaps she did understand it intellectually but couldn’t accept it in her heart. In Raven’s eyes, life was a zero sum of survival and death, and living selfishly was the only way to live at all.

But Summer didn’t vocalise those observations. No amount of words would change the paths they were set on; paths that would never cross again.

‘Goodbye, Raven,’ Summer sighed, gently prying the hand off her shoulder, feeling tears run down her cheeks as she took in the stunned look on Raven’s face. She turned around and headed east, and Raven didn’t stop her.

* * *

In the next town she found, it was a small feat to hire a Bullhead, and begin the last leg of her journey. After a long flight east, she quickly cast a look down as the saw the coast of Anima fall away behind her, and when her eyes were back on the sky, she saw violent, thundering clouds on the horizon. Ignoring the warning bells on the digital interface telling she was entering unsafe airspace, she plugged Raven’s appropriated Scroll into the jack and ran the navigational program. Within seconds, a new route had mapped and the Bullhead set itself to autopilot to follow it. The following hour was silent and tense as a pulled bowstring, and Summer swallowed a fistful of pills to stop herself from passing out from the stress. Within minutes, the storm had consumed the Bullhead, setting Summer adrift in a sea of roiling black clouds and cataclysmic crashes of thunder. The radar screamed as it pinged Grimm presences all around her; dozens, hundreds, thousands, some as big as the ship and others that dwarfed it like a Nevermore to a pigeon.

But the navigation program proved its worth. The course it charted was indirect, meandering and twisted. Summer would catch the ship curving its trajectory at odd angles, changing direction and altitude like she was in a dogfight with an invisible foe. Yet despite the violent strength of the wind, the twisting course was not disturbed by any turbulence, and though she could see the outlines of countless horrific silhouettes inside the mountainous storm clouds, the Grimm seemed to ignore her and her mounting anxiety. After an eternity of tension, the clouds broke, and the desolation of the Fifth Continent was spread out before her.

Some called it Evernight, others called it the Land of Darkness, or the Cradle of Grimm, but none of those names did justice to the hollowness it put in Summer’s chest at the sight of it. The land was a labyrinth of craggy plains and crooked mountains, where flora was sparse and scraggly and fauna was non-existent. At the crests of many broken hills were sharp lattices of dark crystals, flowering from within the rock like glass tumours, whether made of Dust or some other mineral, she couldn’t tell. But the thing that struck her most was the sky; the system timer told her that was late morning, but the horizon was black as midnight, shot through with a low dusky purple. It was a land that was home to no nations, and one master.

She touched down on some coastal cliff, a lifelessly grey wall endlessly assaulted by dark churning waters. She unplugged the stolen Scroll from the jack, and once her feet were on solid, silty ground, she tossed it into the hungry sea. Then, she got an idea, one that chilled her as surely as the frigid spray of the waves. She took out her own Scroll, spending several long minutes flicking through the photo gallery. Years of antics and achievements with Team STRQ. Pictures from her wedding where Qrow somehow convinced Glynda to take a day off for once and visit the reception, standing there smugly with an arm around the scowling deputy headmistress. A series of selfies of her holding a very small Yang, each one showing the baby looking bigger and more alert while her stomach grew rounder. An endless slideshow of her girls at play, one where Ruby was dragged around in a wagon they pretended was an airship, a picture of Tai’s lightly bruised legs after getting hit with foam swords all day, one where they were blissfully asleep, a large-print copy of _The Shallow Sea_ used as a makeshift blanket.

She basked in the warmth of all those photos, and finally, she drew back her arm and pitched the Scroll into the depths with a wilful shout. Photos were mementos, but they were also information; she couldn’t risk her last mission being traced back to her family. But more than that, it was her way of telling herself that there was no going back. Summoning the effort to walk, she turned away and headed further into the Fifth Continent.

Hours passed by in an edgy blur, not helped by the unchanging night sky. Summer crossed fractured plains swept by moaning winds and dotted with dead trees. She climbed up sharp, crystalline cliff faces and clambered down craggy, windswept slopes, stopping on crests and valleys to swallow mouthfuls of jerky, water, and pills. She trekked through a field of bones and blades, prone skeletons whose bones were half dust and discarded swords and axes that were almost nothing but rust. Everywhere she walked was silent and motionless, and her eyes and ears were always open to any threats. Only once, a Beowolf tried to pounce on her from behind a rock, but her focus was so sharp at that moment, she annihilated it with a blink from her Eyes. Aside from that, nothing broke the quiet elegy whistled by the wind.

Eventually, she came across what looked like an old town. It seemed like it was abandoned for ages uncounted, with cracked streets framed by things that were less buildings and more loose, half-built frames on crumbling foundations. The streets converged on a silent square, and any who approached would have their eyes drawn to the great dilapidated statues set on a dais in the centre. Summer looked at the woman in robes and the man holding a staff, and though their features where long eroded and cracked away, it was not a long leap of logic to surmise their identities.

‘Just how much did you hide from us, Oz?’ she muttered under her breath. She shelved the curious thought for now; if she was going to make it past this day, she doubted she was going to get answers any time soon. She left the square, and soon she was dwarfed by the sight of what she came for. The streets terminated abruptly into a steep cliff face, like something impossibly big took a bit out of the earth. Beneath and beyond was a vast flat filled with spires and plateaus of crystal and stone, where the soil dipped into ponds and lakes of bubbling black filth; from her vantage point she could see movement as things crawled out of the murky liquid, and she knew of only one thing that could survive in pits like those. But far in the distance she knew she saw her destination: a tower taller and straighter than nature could produce stood imperiously on the edge of the horizon. A javelin of stone and crystal thrust into the frozen sky, surrounded by the carnage of the broken moon and the faded stars.

She sat down, half out of sheer awe and half out of the need to catch her breath. She panted as she searched her satchel for the supplies she needed, her lungs burning as though she had sprinted for an hour. The disease was taking its toll faster than she expected; the year prognosis was contingent on bedrest and aggressive treatment, so who knew how much time she had burned through by putting her body under this kind of stress? Only one person could have lived in such a towering edifice, and she probably knew Summer was here for a long time now. Summer knew, as she assembled her canteen, some fire Dust, and some rosebud tealeaves, that this would be her last day on Remnant. Before she went to meet the Gods, she could at least make time for one last cup of tea.

The water didn’t take long to heat, and soon she had a steaming cup in her hands. She closed her eyes to the ominous citadel and bubbling lakes, and opened up her other senses as she took a measured sip. The smell of roses (real and not imagined, so no danger of any seizures for the moment), the taste of liquid heat with a floral note, the gentle warmth in her hands, and the mournful howl of the wind.

Her sense of taste quickly vanished as a shadow passed over her and an invisible weight pressed on her shoulders, making her tea grow cold instantly. She bounced to her feet, drawing her blades with trembling fingers, her heart rate spiking from a sudden irrational dread.

First, she thought it was a giant Nevermore; a problem to be sure, but not one she couldn’t deal with. But what she thought were wings were only the edges of a great cape, darker even than the night sky, stretched to its extremes by an unnatural wind that bore its wearer gently down from the stars. The figure in the middle was swaddled in black, and Summer could only see the hands, hair, and face, white as old bone. More than the sight, it was the weight on her shoulders that made her get to her feet, that weight was what kept her eyes fixed on the figure bearing down on her. It was the weight in the air of a Maiden unleashing her power, only quieter, yet all the more tremendous, like the stars had come down to Remnant to crush her with their gravity. This being stared coldly down at her with eyes like glowing coals, eyes that had seen more than Summer could ever imagine. Summer knew this being. There was never any question who this was.

‘Salem,’ Summer whispered, willing her Aura to readiness. She kept her eyes focused on the ancient witch, her grip tight on Gibbous Thorn, feeling the hairs on her neck raise from the thrum of the magic in the air and from the red eyes staring down at her.

‘Summer Rose,’ she said, as though that name was of only the briefest significance to her. ‘I know you’ve delayed my plans before. Ozpin hid you well, but now you come to me. Why is that?’

Summer remained silent. She wanted to decry her for all her crimes, wanted to declare that she would be the one to free Remnant of her evil once and for all, but any words she came up with felt hollow and weak. She knew that no words were possible.

‘You don’t need to answer,’ Salem whispered gently, almost like how Summer herself would when Ruby spilled her juice. ‘I might not know why you began this journey, but I can tell that we both know how this is going to end. You have the look of someone who knows they go to meet their destiny.’ Salem’s eyes narrowed, and a little smile began to creep its way up her lips. ‘I feel it in your Aura. The mingling of determination with acceptance, resignation…fear.’

True enough, Summer felt those emotions surge through her as through Salem had commanded it. For a second, she wanted to run, to kneel and beg, to lay down and die, anything but stand and fight, because that led to horror and suffering without end. Through the rush of the sudden dread chilling through her bones, she felt the burn in her chest. Focussing on the pain, she steeled herself. She was already suffering, already dying, so she would rather write her own destiny than let this faux-deity dictate it to her, or to anyone else.

‘I am not afraid of you,’ she declared, with more strength in her voice than she felt anywhere else. If Salem saw through her false bravado, then she didn’t say as much. She simply smiled wider, raised a hand, and a little ball of flame sparked to life in her palm.

‘Then you will die braver than most,’ she stated, and the fireball flared up to twice its size as it rocketed towards Summer’s position.

The fireball detonated in a corona of white-hot flame that engulfed the entire cliffside. Salem took only a heartbeat to watch the light turn to smoke as the Huntress materialised right next to her in a burst of petals. She raised a hand to block the knife with a lazy ease, and red energies gathered in her other palm. Summer disappeared before the wave of power could touch her. Summer reappeared above, raining down bullets. Salem looked up with absolute disinterest as the shots pinged off a screen of invisible force, and pointed up. Summer vanished again, a blink before lightning struck Salem’s outstretched finger with a tooth-rattling crash. Gripping the sparking, spitting energy like it was a live snake, Salem lashed out with the lightning at the figure now running towards her. The thunder sent broken stone into the air where it struck, and Summer reappeared over it, driving the knife forward with a shout. Salem grabbed her wrist and tossed her down casually. Summer landed heavily on her back when Salem dove after her with a fist raised. She blinked away, and the punch left a deep crater and a wide web of cracks.

Salem didn’t even have time to look up before Summer drew first blood. She materialised with a spinning slash that bit into Salem’s neck, and a jet of black blood spurted from the open wound. Salem stumbled to her feet, gasping as the arterial spray sputtered to a halt, the dark ichor evaporating instantly without leaving even a mark. Summer was not surprised. She had seen older creatures of Grimm regenerate faster than that, and she doubted their master would be taken down so easily.

‘Impressive,’ she said, with tone that betrayed the barest measure of interest. With a grunt, she raised her arms forward, and two lines of spikes ripped themselves through the earth like the fins of sharks, closing in to impale the Huntress. She hopped back to dodge the impending spikes as they crunched into one another. Salem soared over the attack and tossed another ball of red energy, and Summer blinked away again as the blast atomised layers of soil.

Summer landed in the middle of the square, taking a second to catch her breath. She regenerated fast, and Summer somehow couldn’t access her eyes. Oz was right; the Light would only come out for Grimm, and Salem was something else entirely. Before she could think, she felt the awful pressure again as she saw Salem hover high above the statue.

‘Do you honestly believe you were the first to fight me at me home?’ she taunted, curling her fingers into taut claws. Summer saw her wince with effort, then gasped as two rotted houses were torn from their foundations by invisible forces. ‘This could only end one way!’ she shouted as she swung her arms forwards. The two houses flew in Summer’s direction, their old condition meaning they were torn apart by the powerful forces lifting them, quickly becoming a shower of rubble. Summer cartwheeled left, dodging the rain of timber and mortar. She felt a sudden chill, and she blinked forward to dodge the hail of icicles Salem sprayed, flowing seamlessly into a roll and then a jump. The rocks felt like they were falling in slow motion as she hopped between the hurtling debris, closer to the witch. Salem narrowed her eyes in annoyance at the Huntress who refused to die, put the wrists of her splayed hands together, and blasted the air in front of her with a storm of icy razors. Summer blinked past the barrage of cold blades, sheathing a blade and swinging the other, which caught Salem in the wrist. Salem sneered to mask the pain as dark ichor oozed from the impaled hand.

‘You know how this is going to end,’ she reprimanded, ‘there’s no point in—’

Summer reached into her pocket and drew a large red crystal. She shoved it right between Salem’s teeth and kicked herself away. As soon as the blade came free, she unfurled it into pistol form, aimed at the Dust bit, and fired before Salem could react.

With a blast of crimson light that blossomed into acrid smoke, the magical pressure was suddenly released. Summer landed gracefully, and watched as a headless, smoking ruin fell from the sky and crashed into a heap in the square. She panted heavily, willing breath back into her body. That must have been it. It didn’t matter how fast you regenerated; nothing could survive an annihilated cranium. As soon as the adrenaline began to fade from her blood, Summer felt a knot of horror as the blackened hunk of gore got up. Golden light radiated from the twisted form, setting bones and knitting muscle, and in mere seconds, Salem was standing there, unscratched, unfazed, unstoppable. Salem smiled at the sight of her opponent, drinking in her despairing eyes and gaping jaw. She made an utterance as if she was going to say something, but Summer exploited the sudden stillness. Her speech was cut off with a strangled gurgle as Summer teleported right in front of her, driving both blades into her chest. Not taking any chances, Summer deployed the triggers on Gibbous Thorn and pulled them with madly twitching fingers, letting out a primal roar as muffled pops and blossoms of black gore burst from Salem’s back. The old witch stood stock still, an unreadable expression on her ashen face as the triggers drew only faint clicks. Summer tried to reach inward, feeling for the Light within, but her heart sank again when she realised it wouldn’t come. Summer only barely caught her breath when Salem gripped her wrists with a terrible crushing grip.

‘However,’ she said, nonplussed as she wrenched the knifes from out her ribs, ‘skill and determination alone will earn you nothing.’ With an iron grip on Summer’s wrists, she whipped her hands down, pulling Summer to the floor with a pained gasp and an echoing _thud!_ With a grunt of concentration, she spun on her heel and flung her high into the air, and then she conjured a tempest of air in her palm. The ball of wind shot out and struck Summer full in the stomach before she could react, launching her screaming into the sky.

She didn’t know how long she flew. Summer concentrated only on controlling her breathing to ease the pain, using her Semblance to blink in and out, again and again, focusing on gaining enough altitude to avoid hitting something, flying in alternating vectors to neutralise her momentum. She felt herself slow almost to nothing, and she dared open her eyes to see the vast plain of rocky plateaus and black lakes spread out beneath her. It was when landing became her concern that doubt began to creep into her mind. Why did she come here? What did she hope to accomplish? Killing Salem, a feat no one could accomplish in all these millennia, was supposed to be done by a woman half dead already? A cut throat merely surprised her, a full magazine in the chest was beneath her notice, and the Light wouldn’t even activate in her presence. Why didn’t she just take Raven’s advice and go home? If only she could hold Ruby one last time…

_Ruby!_ She fell for a second before blinking away again, landing on a taller plateau and crouching behind a rock festooned with crystals. That’s why she came here: to give her girls a fighting chance. If she could lighten the burden just a little, then all the pain she would face today would be worth it. It was already far too late for doubts.

From far beneath her, she heard a familiar howl. She peered over the edge, and sure enough, there was a Beowulf at the bottom of the tall rock beside a pool of darkness, claws sinking in to climb the sheer face. Faint movement drew her eye, and she gasped as she saw a bone white claw rise above the black water. Her eyes darted about, and all around, the lakes were churning with bubbling malice, Grimm of every variety thrashing their way to the surface with nascent hate. She saw Ursai pawing their way onto brackish shores, Nevermores hesitantly taking wing as they emerged, and Beringels making their first furious howls. The horrific sight made a frightening sort of sense; after all, they were in a forsaken land ruled by the enemy of humankind. Once she made that connection, Summer remembered Raven’s chastisement.

_So you decided you were going to remove that threat from the source?_

And suddenly everything made sense. This was what she could do, right here and now.

‘I take it you’ve accepted your fate?’ she heard Salem’s voice from afar. She turned and saw her in flight towards her. Her arms were folded and her face neutral, defying gravity as she gently floated towards the plateau at a steady speed, casual and inevitable. Summer stood, narrowing her eyes defiantly as Salem gained in altitude, finding herself once again looking up.

‘You are not the author of my destiny,’ she growled, falling into a familiar stance and tightening her grip on the handles. She met Salem’s eyes, and the old witch smirked at the defiance she saw in them.

‘True,’ she agreed almost pleasantly, gently lowering to Summer’s level like a spider approaching an entangled fly. ‘I don’t write fates.’ And suddenly, she shot up into the air, high above her opponent as she stretched her hand up above her head. She looked down on Summer, sneering as if seeing a dying fly.

‘Only endings.’

Summer blinked to the next plateau as Salem brought her hand down, shielding her face as she reappeared. A blinding flash and a deafening crash, and the pillar of stone was obliterated by a spear of thunder from the heavens. Salem turned, tossing another explosive fireball towards Summer’s position. She disappeared again, but Salem knew where she went. She could trace a person’s Aura, that pathetic shadow of the old magic, like a bloodhound could sniff out its prey. She ascended, wind rushing past her face as she soared to a higher plateau. A long blade of blue fire ignited in her fist, and as she crested the lip of the rock, Salem swung the beam in a wide arc, baking the surface rock of the plateau in a wave of azure flame. Yet there was no Huntress. She felt the presence first, then heard the shout as Summer appeared right over her head, roaring with effort as she fell, and Salem looked up just in time to see a blade held in two hands. The tip of the knife cracked straight through her brow, and Salem stood frozen as dark smoke seeped out from between her eyes. Her red eyes were glossy and unfocused for only a second before they locked onto Summer.

‘You already know this is pointless,’ she gloated, smiling confidently in spite of the blade piercing her head. ‘So why do you still—’

Without a word, Summer drew the other blade from its holster and slammed it to the hilt in Salem’s neck, and gave it a twist hard enough to draw a muffled crunch. She blinked away again without even watching her fall. Of course she knew that wasn’t going to kill her. She didn’t even expect it to slow her down. She only needed a few seconds.

She blinked in higher in the air, and beneath was a vast array of dark lakes. She went into freefall, and closed her eyes. Blocking out the rush of the wind and the flapping of her cape, she thought back to her mother’s smile when she first discovered her Semblance, one of few happy memories from before Beacon. She remembered the taste of the first round at the bar after graduating, the smell of sweat on sheets after her wedding, the sound of an angel crying. She remembered the promise she made that October night, to cling and clutch and never let go, the promise she would break today.

Dawn broke on the Fifth Continent. She opened her eyes and the curtains were drawn back on silver Light, cascading down to the earth like sunbeams. Where Light fell, Grimm cried out. Pools of blackness bubbled like infernal cauldrons, dark liquid instantly evaporating into foul smoke, the creatures in them scrambling to the banks in desperation before their tainted flesh calcified, cracked, and crumbled to nothing. The Light kept expanding, and the Grimm kept dying. Summer concentrated only on maintaining that power pouring out of her, excoriating the taint from the land. She kept her mind on the old mantra as she poured her everything into the Light. Every Grimm that died was a life saved. Every life saved was a victory Salem was denied.

An impact shut off the Light. A beam of crackling energy shot across the sky and struck Summer in the side. She let out a strangled gasp as her Aura was instantly shattered. The force of the blow sent her tumbling through the air, far across the empty plain, before she struck a wall of crystal hard enough to crack it, leaving to slide limply down to the hard rock of the plateau.

Her vision was spinning even long after she came to a stop. Pain wracked her whole being, from the smouldering ache in her upper back where she made impact, to the searing agony in her oblique, to the splitting migraine that was beginning to grow along with the smell of roses.

‘Damn it,’ she hissed, ‘not now!’ She firmly pushed a hand to the ground, shaking as she tried to climb to her knees, but another shock of pain sent her huddling against the wall. She dragged herself up the crystal surface with the strength of one shaking leg; the other was broken. She knew from the ache in her chest and back that she had broken a few ribs as well. Sucking in a breath, she felt another scream of fire in her oblique. She clutched a hand to her aching side, and her palm came away red. All the while, the smell of roses grew more powerful, her limbs lighter, and her thoughts began to peel away, one by one, until all that was left was the screaming in her mind of _not now, not now!_

And then the feeling was gone. Her nose was clear, her broken limbs had their own strength again, and the storm in her mind was replaced with an eerie stillness. She dared to look up, and great shadow loomed over her. Salem’s very presence subdued the shaking, the storm swallowed by the enormity of her presence. She looked down at her, through her, radiating with infinity and certainty, her Aura a singularity that pulled in the whole cosmos. Those ancient, terrible eyes of hers narrowed a millimetre.

‘You’re dying,’ she said, and somehow, Summer knew she wasn’t referring to the hole in her stomach.

‘We all are,’ Summer panted. Now that she was upright, she had no energy to move left. It was all she could do to keep breathing, and to keep her eyes on Salem. ‘Except you, apparently.’

‘It’s a shame you came to realise that in this way,’ Salem remarked, and Summer nearly cringed at the way she looked at her; a facsimile of pity that barely concealed the disdain. ‘Ozpin deceived you, gave you hope where you had none, so when you grew ill and saw death coming, you made one last gamble to inject a semblance of meaning into your futile existence. Summer Rose, you threw away what was left of your life for nothing.’

‘Did I?’ Summer murmured, sparing the energy for one last performance. She put an inflection of misery in her voice, made her face slack with despair, and when she saw the ghost of a victorious smirk on Salem’s face, she broke out into a smile of her own. ‘You sure about that?’

Salem looked incredulously at the dying Huntress in front of her, and when she saw that her still-defiant silver eyes were looking past, she craned her head around and saw the point she was making. The plain where there was once a hundred Pools of Grimm was now empty. Where there were once so many dark cauldrons there were now dry craters, where the howls of Beowolves once sang there was only the whisper of the wind. Her place of craft, her forge, her barracks; the plain was now as silent and dead as anywhere else on the Fifth Continent. Summer did not hide her grin as Salem turned back on her, her eyes narrow and smouldering.

‘That’s bound to set you back a little, right?’ she taunted her. The old witch said nothing in response.

‘What’s the matter? No monologue?’ she went on, letting out a chuckle that became a cough that made her taste iron. Salem remained quiet, continuing to glare at her. ‘Come on, tell me how you’re feeling. Anyone can tell you’re mad right now, but you know what, I think you’re a little scared of me.’ Salem’s scowl deepened as the infernal glow in her eye grew brighter. Summer smirked as she made a pinching gesture with her hand. ‘Only just a little.’

‘You think taunting me will change your fate?’ Salem finally responded her voice a tight hiss. ‘You think your actions today will change anything? In a few centuries, those pools will be replenished, and until then, there are more than enough Grimm to raze the Kingdoms to their foundations. Meanwhile, you are the last bearer of Silver Eyes. Today, I break a weapon Ozpin will never wield again. He has lost!’

‘Not yet,’ Summer countered. She met Salem’s gaze with as much steel as she could muster. ‘I don’t know how long Oz has been fighting, but I do know he never did it alone. He hasn’t lost as long as we’re still fighting you together.’

Salem nodded briefly, as if acknowledging an interesting point. ‘Yes. United, your species _is_ a threat to me. I’ll have to do something to stop that unity.’

Summer laughed bitterly at that. ‘Now who’s the one who’ll fail to make a difference?’ She felt a shift in the air, and Salem descended. Her feet touched the smooth rock of the plateau, and she stepped towards her, Summer could feel the book closing on her story, like the cooling of skin when you walked under a shadow. One last time, she brought to mind everyone she would leave behind, those who could carry on. Tai. Qrow. Ozpin. Yang.

Ruby.

‘So, maybe I can’t kill you,’ she admitted, looking straight ahead at the death approaching her, remaining unbowed despite slouching against the wall, ‘but we don’t have to kill you in order to stop you.’ Salem stopped, her face blank as she stood right over her, and Summer flashed her one last defiant grin. ‘And we _will_ stop you.’

Salem had nothing to say to that. Instead, she raised an open palm, red energy crackling around the straightened fingers. As she pulled back, everything that was in the back of Summer’s mind rushed to the forefront.

_RubyYangTaiIloveyouI’msosorryIhadtodothisIhadtonooneelsecouldIdon’twanttodieIwanttoseeyouagainIwishIcouldseeyouagainifonly_

That rush of thought and emotion ended as Salem thrusted her extended hand forward, right through the centre of Summer’s chest.

* * *

Raven was the first to know.

Dusk was falling in the quiet Anima moor, the only sound for miles being the crackling of the bonfire and the laughter of her men. The caravan they had struck earlier that day had contained a shipment of wine bound for Atlas, and Raven decided that the sheer value of their haul was cause to celebrate. She sat in a secluded corner of the camp nursing her own glass, watching the dancing fire and dancing bandits, tasting both the fine wine and the humid evening air when she felt it. It was like a heart palpitation, like a taut string in her chest snapping, making a wave of cold that spread throughout her body. She knew where it came from, though she couldn’t articulate. Semblances were rarely precise, more instinctual, and she knew that tremor came from the same place as her other bonds. Taiyang, Qrow, Yang. She knew those bonds were still strong, but knew nothing other than the general direction of where they were and that they were still alive. But Raven knew there should have been another. For a second, she couldn’t believe it. Once she made a bond with her Semblance, it never broke, unless…

Ah. That would explain it. Such was the fate of so-called heroes, and after everything she had said to warn her.

‘You damned fool,’ she muttered, wiping her eyes to prevent the moisture building up.

‘You alright, Boss?’ someone called. A teenage girl approached Raven from behind, young and slight, but already possessing the eyes of a hardened killer. Vernal, she remembered, a new girl, already fitting in nicely.

‘It’s nothing,’ Raven shrugged. Vernal nodded briefly, and wandered back to go back to the party. No further questions asked, Raven noted, she was learning fast. She would be more than suitable for the purpose she had in mind, and she was the right age as well. Raven finished her glass to smooth out the fraying edges of her mind. Yes, Vernal would be a good fit, and unlike _some people,_ they would continue to survive

She turned her gaze back to the fire. She imagined that in a few days, people would go looking for her. In time, Qrow would be sticking his beak back here, pecking at her tracks. To think she would be the one giving news like this, after everything they had already said and done to each other. She sighed, and stood up, walking in the direction of the crate to fetch another bottle. That was a problem for another day.

* * *

‘What do you mean he doesn’t know?!’ Taiyang nearly screamed into his Scroll, restraining himself so that he didn’t wake the girls. It was late, the lounge illuminated by the dusky glow of a single lamp, and Tai was sat hunched forward in his armchair with his Scroll pressed to his ear, as if preparing to strangle the man on the other end.

‘Like I said, Oz doesn’t know,’ Qrow repeated himself on the other end. ‘Nobody knows.’

‘How is that possible?’ Tai insisted, as if asking questions persistently enough would tell him where his wife went. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back, sinking into the material of the chair. It had been six days already. By now, she would have sent him a text or two explaining what she was doing, telling him about all the wonderful people she met and terrifying Grimm she killed, and a rough estimate of when she would be returning. If she didn’t send a text, that was because she was doing one of those favours for Oz, where she and Qrow would go deep behind enemy lines, sometimes for weeks at a time. But ifassa Oz didn’t know…

‘Look,’ Qrow sighed. ‘Looking through the Council’s records, there are no “above the board” missions registered to her license number. We both know the only person she’ll accept an under-the-table offer from is Ozpin, and according to him, he hasn’t spoken to her since we came back from the last one.’

Taiyang grit his teeth. ‘And do you believe that?’

‘Come on, Tai,’ Tai could practically hear Qrow’s eyes rolling, ‘you know Oz sees something really special in Sum. He knows how much she means to the both of us. You really think he’d lie to us about something like this?’

Tai tightened his grip on the arm of the chair. His silence told Qrow what he thought of that.

‘Oh, come on!’

‘For all I know, this could be another one of those “need to know” things,’ Tai grumbled. ‘You can’t tell me he hasn’t done that kind of thing before.’

‘Tai, this is your wife we’re talking about,’ Qrow hissed. ‘Don’t you think he’d have a little more tact than that?’ The rebuke stung a little, and Tai sighed.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, rubbing at exhausted eyes. ‘Guess I’ve still got a little Raven in me.’

‘Look,’ Qrow groaned, fatigue painting every note of his voice, ‘it looks to me like Summer went off somewhere on her own. Can you think of where, or why?’

‘No,’ Tai answered honestly. Aa open a person as he knew Summer to be, there were parts of her that were still a mystery to him, and if she wanted to keep a secret, it would never see the light of day. Not to mention the rather abrupt way she had left in the first place; Ruby had been inconsolable that whole night. ‘She’s been…off the last couple of days. Not very different than usual but…’

‘Like she wasn’t telling you something, that there was something on her mind,’ Qrow suggested, and Tai nodded. They both knew how Summer could get sometimes. She would talk them into spilling their dreams and fears within days of forming their team, despite Qrow and Raven’s insistence on keeping their distance, but it took them more than a year to get Summer to open up to them.

‘It’s going to be fine, Tai,’ Qrow reassured him. ‘I’ll send some feelers out, ask some questions. She can’t have gone anywhere we can’t follow.’

Tai shrugged, feeling a shadow of relief. ‘Yeah, we’re just going to have to wait and see.’

‘Yeah,’ Qrow yawned, ‘talk to you again in the morning.’

‘Qrow,’ Taiyang cut in, voice cold and stern.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m counting on you.’

The other end of the line was silent for a second, before he heard an affirming grunt. ‘I won’t let you down.’

Qrow hung up, leaving Tai alone in the silence. He put a hand on his brow, sighing as he reclined in his chair. It would be okay. They had gotten out of tougher scrapes before. She would be home before he knew it, and his faith in her was all he needed.

* * *

In the shadows of Castle Evernight, Salem glided down the cold flagstones of the subterranean corridor, plotting all the while.

Ozpin had shored up his defences well over the last seventy years. The new profession (and “new” was a relative term for her) profession of Huntsmen produced ever-increasing numbers of Aura-users to control the Grimm populations, and the Academies that trained them served as unbreakable fortresses where the Relics would be cloistered. A direct result was near impossible, and her usual methods were beginning to lose their edge. Her followers reported everything they could on humanity’s developments; technology, politics, new ways of thinking, and she bade them to sow sedition where it would grow. What she heard over the last few decades gave her little opportunity to move. Old hatreds were slowly being forgotten, the world was growing smaller with new advances in communication and travel, and governments operated with an unprecedented degree of cooperation, both on public podia and behind closed doors. But every light of hope cast its shadow. With every revolution and innovation there would always be those who were left behind, every boom of prosperity would breed inequality and discontent. In a “peaceful” world, there would always be the ugliness mankind conditioned itself to look away from, and she knew it would be from those shadows that her followers would strike.

Salem smiled briefly, her eyes wondering to the hand that looked clean, but felt otherwise. The Eye Hunters have served their purpose, and after so many centuries, the Elder Brother’s last gift to Ozpin was done away with. Yet as soon the satisfaction bloomed in her chest, it was quickly replaced with the gnaw of frustration. There was no denying that woman had caused a costly amount of damage. It was true that the annihilated Pools of Darkness would regenerate, but she never specified how long it would take in her attempt to demoralise her before her end. It would be close to a thousand years before she was back at full production speed, and even then, at the rate humanity was developing and thriving, would she ever be capable of raising an army great enough to exterminate them? No, that last Silver-Eyed Warrior’s sacrifice had a tangible impact, made her reconsider her plans, and so Salem rewarded her with a quick death.

So she stalked through these ancient depths, and found the chamber she was seeking. The small room contained several shelfs stack with lockboxes fashioned from black iron. She swivelled around and locked eyes on the box she wanted, feeling the magic within. Each one contained an artefact fashioned from her power, things Ozpin would do anything to destroy if he knew they existed. Each was a plan in incubation, waiting for the ideal opportunity.

Another presence revealed itself on the edge of her mind. She turned around to watch the Seer float silently in her direction, its eye glowing with presence.

‘Your Grace,’ the voice of Hazel Rainart rumbled through the silent corridor.

‘Hazel,’ Salem greeted the tentacled creature, and Hazel through it. ‘What did our informant in Argus have to tell us about Atlas’ rising star?’

‘Nothing,’ he reported bluntly. Salem narrowed her eyes at the Seer, and Hazel wisely took the cue to elaborate. ‘When I arrived in Argus, my contact was dead. Her house was burned to the ground, and I think you might be interested in how.’

‘Go on,’ she prompted archly. She had assigned him a simple task in gathering information on the up-and-coming officer James Ironwood, a decorated Specialist who was rumoured to be an associate of Ozpin. If he failed at that, then the least he could do was provide a good excuse.

‘I’ve found the girl who did it,’ he continued, and Salem knew him well enough to hear the briefest note of amusement in his level voice. Something in his words sparked the beginnings of an idea in her.

‘A girl?’

‘Couldn’t be older than fourteen or fifteen,’ he went on. ‘I knew Lierre well enough that it was no mean to feat to beat her in a straight fight, so she’s either stronger or more devious.’ A flash of Hazel’s face appeared in the reflective chitin of the Seer. His lip was pulled slightly into a brief smirk. ‘If you ask me, I’m starting to think she’s both.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Salem chastised him. ‘Bring the girl to me. I would take the measure of her myself.’

‘As you wish,’ said Hazel, and the feeling of his soul faded away from the edge of her sixth sense as the Seer floated into the shadows, once again an empty shell.

Salem thought on it more, impressions becoming possibilities, possibilities lending themselves to new plans. The plans all depended on the girl, of course. She needed more than Hazel’s word to assess her strength and intellect, and aside from that, she was at a good age. Old enough to be capable of independent thought, young enough to be moulded, yet more than young enough to be suitable for her new plan. She turned back to the lockbox she had sought unfastened the latches. The existence of Silver Eyes made the plans involving this artefact too risky, but with the last of the silver blood spilled, that would no longer be a concern.

She lifted the lid, and admired the long white glove that lay within. With this, she would fashion the weapon that would pierce Ozpin’s heart for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Hey, isn't lockdown supposed to make you _more _productive?_  
>  Persona 5 Royal: Don't think so.  
> Xenoblade Definitive: Nah.  
> League of Legends: Nope._
> 
> __So anyway, I finally managed to get this thing finished, between numerous vidya and my attempts to stop my psyche from collapsing from the stress of general existence in 2020. Would you believe I've been working on it in little bits and pieces since February?! But anyways, a few bits of creative trivia:_ _
> 
> __You can interpret the intrections between Raven and Summer howerver you'd like. I like to interpret all of Team STRQ as bisexual (along with ~80% of the cast, don't even @ me)_ _
> 
> __Yeah, in that final scene, it should be fairly obvious who "the girl" is. I read an interesting theory somewhere purporting that Cinder was from Argus, which would explain why she claims to be Mistrali while also having such strong feelings against "Atlas elites."_ _
> 
> __So anyway, I might not be posting much here in the future, since I'll be focusing more on original writing while looking for a new job. If the craziness of the year has done anything remotely positive, it helped me realise what it is I really want out of life._ _
> 
> __So anyways, leave a comment and a Kudos if you enjoyed the read. Stay safe and keep your head up. We can beat this._ _


End file.
